


The Missing Jumper

by Ruyu



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Clothing, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-14
Updated: 2010-08-14
Packaged: 2017-10-13 12:58:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/137620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruyu/pseuds/Ruyu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is determined to find his missing jumper... even if means venturing into the Sherlock's bedroom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Missing Jumper

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [This](http://community.livejournal.com/sherlockbbc/274647.html?#cutid1) comic by [paperflower86](http://livejournal.com/users/paperflower86)

Whenever Sherlock left the house, John took it upon himself to find his possessions as they tended to get scattered over the flat during the course of an investigation. He had a list for such endeavors. He needed to find a medical text that Sherlock had used for reference and John had never seen again, and there was that wristwatch his flatmate had dismantled on the table in the kitchen. John suspected that the small gears he found in the soles of his boots were the interior of said watch, so he should probably mark that off the list.

Today’s goal was more specific than most times. He was missing his black and white striped jumper. The one he was so fond of wearing that he can’t imagine how he managed to misplace it since it never left his room besides being washed. Sherlock was no help at all, promising John that he had no clue as to whereabouts of any of his clothes, nor was he interested in helping him find them.

So John was left to his own devices in finding his jumper. He began his search in their sitting room, lifting the cushions, moving the furniture, opening boxes that Sherlock had stacked in the corner of the room and he even when as far as checking the ashes of the fireplace for traces of fabric. There was no sign of the jumper.

John pushed forward into the kitchen. Twenty minutes later, all the cabinets were open (including the refrigerator) and he’d unpacked the spare dish-ware that Harry had sent him when he’d moved in. Wherever his jumper was, it was well hidden.

Frustrated, John sat at the kitchen table eyeing Sherlock's closed bedroom door suspiciously. Dare he? He’d never even seen the inside of his flatmate's bedroom before. He’d never had any reason to enter, nor did he ever want to. But this was a dire situation. His favorite jumper was in jeopardy somewhere, possibly in Sherlock’s bedroom (God forbid!).

Decision made, John rose and approached the door. He laughed at himself when he paused at opening the door, feeling as if it was some great undertaking by entering Sherlock’s room. In all truth, he was nervous about what he would find. Judging by the state Sherlock kept their kitchen in, John cringed at the thought of what his bedroom would look like.

He steeled himself and opened the door, shutting his eyes tightly to the sight he might see. He slowly opened his eyes and took in the condition of the room. It was... strangely normal. John let out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding and entered the room. John’s room was abnormally clean, he knew, so he took no stock in how messy Sherlock’s room was - it looked like any other bloke’s room.

He began a new search, careful this time to move things as little as possible, knowing that Sherlock would know that someone had been in there. John combed over the piles of books and newspaper, he looked through most of the bags (Sherlock had loads of bags) that were tucked against the walls. He dropped to his knees to check under the bed and as he rose he saw it ‒ a stripped sleeve exposed from beneath a pillow.

John was shocked, outraged and... confused. Why would Sherlock have his jumper tucked under his pillow?

“Ah. I see you found it.”

John gasped at the voice and turned to see his flatmate resting against the doorframe, pulling off his gloves and regarding John with a sheepish look.

“I thought you said you didn’t know where it was?” John accused. “Why the hell do you have this under your pillow?”

Sherlock frowned and blushed, dropping his eyes from John’s condemning stare. He walked to the bed and pulled the jumper from beneath his pillow and handed it to John. “I’m terribly sorry. I honestly didn’t think you’d miss it.”

John took the offered jumper, suspicious of Sherlock and his actions. “What were you doing with it?” John took the increasing blush on Sherlock’s pale face as a sign that it wasn’t for entirely innocent reasons. The detective turned to leave the room, but John stopped him.

“Sherlock, tell me,” John prodded gently, realized that this was terribly embarrassing for Sherlock.

“Well, I like the way you smell,” he said bluntly, looking at the wall past John’s head.

Now it was John’s turn to blush. He curled the jumper into a ball and tugged at it, suddenly embarrassed, though he had no reason to be. Well he did, but there was really nothing he could do about it. How could he have known that Sherlock liked the way he smelled?

“Oh,” John finally said, dropping his own eyes from Sherlock’s face. “Well, I... um...”

The moment seemed to last forever as they stood rather close together next to Sherlock’s bed, John holding the missing jumper and Sherlock squirming in his own skin at having been caught. After the initial shock of the situation was over, John realized he was flattered and not entirely put off by what had happened.

Smiling and finally reestablishing eye contact with his flatmate, John blushed again and pushed the jumper back into Sherlock’s hands. “Here, you can keep it. I’ll just have to come get it from you if I ever want to wear it, yeah?”

“What?” Sherlock asked incredulously, looking at the jumper and then back at John.

“Keep it. Now that I know where it is, it shouldn’t be a problem,” John assured him, smiling coyly.

“Oh, well... thank you, John,” he said softly.

John gave him one last pointed look and turned when Sherlock stopped him, a cold hand on his sleeve. “Actually, John. Could you do me a favor?”

“Anything, Sherlock.”

Sherlock blushed again, and said, “Could you possibly wear it now? The smell is starting to wear off and it’s just not the same.”

John looked at Sherlock seriously for a moment, wondering if it was a good idea to take this any farther than Sherlock was obviously suggesting. Sherlock had an adorably hopeful look on his face and John couldn’t resist those eyes and that mouth.

He thought he heard Sherlock groan as he moved to the door. Instead of leaving like Sherlock thought he’d do, he closed and locked the door and returned to his flatmate’s side.

John laughed at the look on Sherlock’s face as he tugged his shirt off. “Honestly, Sherlock. Next time just tell me if you decide to highjack my clothes.”

The jumper was never put under Sherlock’s pillow again since John usually slept in the same bed. Sherlock was satisfied with the exchange.


End file.
